Billy Joel hit all the right notes with the Penn crowd Tuesday night.
In front of a jam-packed Irvine Auditorium audience, the Piano Man zinged 'em with his off-the-cuff humor and zany stage antics. He won 'em over with his honesty and frank New York state of mind. And he wowed 'em with an amazing display of keyboard prowess and a songlist of favorites worth the price of any scalped ticket on eBay -- and then some.
But while all these aspects made Joel's peformance memorable, they certainly weren't the highlight of the evening. That moment belonged to a Penn student: 23-year-old College and Wharton senior Jesse Rubenfeld.
For those who didn't win the SPEC ticket sweepstakes, break the auditorium doors down for seats -- or "know someone" important enough to score a coveted spot in VIP rows that filled roughly one-third of the house -- let me explain what happened.
About halfway through the question-and-answer program, Joel called on an enthusiastic young man, seated in the middle section of Irvine, who wanted a favor from the the pop legend he had idolized since childhood.
"As a singer and songwriter, your music has been important to me for a long time," said the shaggy-haired Jesse, sporting the classic rock and roll uniform of jeans, t-shirt and a leather jacket. He said that he had written a song called "A Friend in Bill" that he dedicated to Joel, and asked, "in the spirit of this master class, if I could play it for you and ask for your critique and response."
This was not the first time that Jesse had turned to the Piano Man for advice. Since starting lessons at age six, Jesse appreciated his classical piano training but found inspiration in Billy Joel's music. He would hammer out his favorite songs at the keyboard, and whenever something bothered him, he found a ready friend in a Joel CD.
"His songs, the music -- they just work," Jesse said. "They have the ability to connect with people on so many issues that we deal with but still be great rock and roll, poetry and art."
In high school, Jesse took his obsession with Joel to the next level. During his senior year, he wrote the pop star, inviting him to his graduation ceremony in Houston. And at Penn -- where Jesse quickly made a name for himself freshman year by playing Billy Joel songs in the Quad with Mask and Wig -- he sent Joel a demo tape along with a note asking for his thoughts. (Both letters were promptly returned by Joel's production company.)
But on a night dedicated to picking Joel's brain about the music business, Jesse hoped he might finally get the chance.
After hearing his hero was coming to Penn, Jesse polished off the song he was writing for the pop legend and practiced every day until he could play it flawlessly by heart. When he didn't win a ticket, Jesse pleaded with SPEC organizers to let him "work" his way into Irvine by helping the production crew.
And when A&E; producers flatly denied his repeated requests Tuesday afternoon to play the song during the peformance, Jesse stood up and asked anyway.
It was a gutsy move on his part. It took chutzpah. It took courage.
But to his credit, the master Piano Man gave Jesse a chance. With the audience's overwhelming approval, Joel invited young artist up to the stage and allowed him to take a seat at his own concert piano.
Speaking softly into the mircrophone at the piano to contain his enthusiasm, Jesse said: "Billy, it's in G. It's in three. And here it is, I wrote it for you."
The audience hushed. Joel stepped aside. The A&E; television producer, already worried about keeping the show on schedule, just cringed. And Jesse played -- no, he dazzled 'em.
"I couldn't believe that I was playing on Billy Joel's Steinway," Jesse explained. "I could see him staring at me from across the room. His attention was on me."
By the end of the song, Penn's own piano man had brought down the house. Jesse stood up from the piano and turned to the audience.
The crowd roared with applause and rose out of their seats. Penn's ever-stoic provost cracked a smile. Even the producer acknowledged a job well done and agreed to send Jesse a tape.
Then Jesse walked over to meet his musical hero, who acknowledged he was impressed.
"That was actually the first standing ovation of the night," Joel pointed out before dishing out some advice to talented young kid.
"Get a lawyer," warned Joel, whose own legal battles with his manager have been widely reported. And with a name like Rubenfeld, Joel kidded, "you may not need an accountant."
But Jesse got in the final word. As the Piano Man and his Penn protege shook hands and exchanged thank yous at center stage, Jesse slipped him a demo CD as well as a special note written on the lyrics to his song:
"Thank you for all the great years of music -- Jesse Rubenfeld."
Eric Dash is a senior Management and American History major from Pittsburgh, Pa.
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